incursion of Miss Allcock was keenly resented by the local ladies. She was altogether too fine—yet the odd thing was that she was not fine at all. But she was in every way uncommonly superior. No greater tribute could have been paid to the social supremacy of the presiding genius of Croxton Park Road, or to the strength of character of Aunty Harriet, than that such a one as Miss Allcock should condescend to Beaconsfield Villas. Truth to tell, Miss Allcock was a remote connection of the clan Sanderson, although never admitted as such by the mandarins. But she knew there were strings to pull, and a good place had been guaranteed her when she really started out in service.
All the same, as far as the neighbors were concerned, Miss Sarah Allcock was an error of judgment. She was amazingly neat and trim, she had the true Sanderson refinement of manner and address, she was fond of airing her voice to her charge with all sorts of subtle Mayfair inflections, and she looked away from the neighbors as if they were dirt. As if they were dirt—that was the gravamen of their complaint in the sympathetic ear of Mrs. Bridgit Connor.
Mrs. Bridgit Connor, the greengrocer's wife, was a widespread lady of Irish descent, of great but fluctuating charm, and unfailing volubility. Her vocabulary was immense, but scorn often taxed it. Her scorn of Miss Allcock taxed it to the breaking point. Born on a bog and descended in the remote past from the kings of the earth, Mrs. Connor had facilities of speech and gesture denied to the common run of her kind. She avenged the slights put by Miss Allcock upon herself and friends by alluding to that lady's charge in a loud voice when-
